


To Forgive And Forget

by Elisexyz



Series: How to coexist peacefully (mostly) – Dean and Michael  are roommates AU [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Dysfunctional Relationships, Gen, Making Up, Mentions of Violence, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: When Michael opens the door to a giant guy who claims to be Dean's brother, he doesn't want to let him in. Dean, of course, disagrees.(Or the famous "Dean and Sam make up" fic.)





	To Forgive And Forget

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I don’t hate Sam, this is not Sam bashing, I don’t think Sam is a monster or an abuser. We all know that the Winchesters take turns to fuck up in their relationship, in this fic it worked better for the plot to have Sam be the one in the wrong. That’s it.  
>  This being said.  
>  You’ll find that Dean’s state of mind about this whole thing has changed a lot since _Self-Hatred And Family Issues_ , and I’m sorry I didn’t get more into that, but I wanted to try a Michael!POV. Ugh, it’s hard when there are so many things I want to do with the same idea, alright?  
>  Basically. Just know that about a month has passed, Dean has done a lot of thinking and the “I need him, he needs me” dynamic we have in the show still applies. These two just can’t say apart, no matter what, and Dean decided that he finds it easier to forgive and forget than to eradicate Sam from his life forever. I feel like the fact that Ruby isn't a demon here and there are no apocalyptic consequences would help too. He’s also probably not as sure about it as he pretends to be. ~~I never said that I’d turn the Sam/Dean relationship into an healthy dynamic, alright?~~  
>  If you want to talk to me ~~or yell at me~~ , you can find me on Tumblr as [heytheredeann](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com).  
>  Mmh. Enjoy?

“Uh, hello,” the giant guy at his door smiles.

Michael raises his eyebrows. “Who are you?” he asks, getting to the point. He doesn’t appreciate small talk, much less when it’s with a complete stranger who’s standing at his door, looking like he’s about to run away any second. If you want to bother him, at least have the decency to be sure that you want to be there in the first place.

“I’m- uh- is Dean here?” the guy mutters, which is suspicious to say the least.

Michael raises his eyebrows and tightens his hold on the door. “Maybe,” he says. “I live here too, and I asked you a question. It’d be polite to answer.”

“Yeah- You’re right,” the man says. “I’m Sam Winchester. Dean’s- brother.”

Oh. Obviously. Michael remembers pretty much his whole conversation with Dean the previous month: he wasn’t drunk enough to forget, and he’s _really_ glad that he hasn’t, because now there’s no way he’s letting this bastard in.

“If that’s the case,” he says, coldly. “he’s not here.”

He tries to close the door, but Sam stops him, quite easily also, which is hardly surprising considering how huge he is. This fact does nothing to mitigate Michael’s anger: Dean is big too, but this man is _huge_ , and now Michael has this mental image of him towering over Dean, grabbing his throat, squeezing until-

“Let go of that door right now,” Michael hisses.

“I- I just need to talk to Dean for a minute, please,” Sam insists. “I want to apologize.”

“Sometimes apologies are just words,” Michael points out. He feels his stomach burning with anger, because this is not _fair_. Michael is hardly a man to complain about the unfairness of life, about how there seems to be some cruel irony in how the universe works, but _this_ \- he hates this. Because Dean is good, Dean is the one who takes care of him, sometimes admittedly in a rude and tactless way, but he’s _there_ , and that’s more than Michael can say about anyone else in his life. Dean isn’t getting much in return for it, because Michael doesn’t have much to offer, but he can and he will try to protect him from being hurt again by the man who’s supposed to be his brother and instead- Dean doesn’t deserve this.

Michael knows that he will forgive his brother. He saw it in Dean’s eyes as he repeated that he missed Sam, as he said that he wasn’t sure he had a right to demand an apology. Dean will forgive Sam, because he loves him and because he doesn’t feel he has a right to stand his ground even if he didn’t want to. And it’s not _fair_.

“I know, but I still need to offer one,” Sam replies. “I can wait for him outside, if you prefer, but I really need to talk to him.”

Michael is about to protest again, when he hears Dean’s voice behind him: “Sammy?”

Michael closes his eyes for a second, cursing internally. He turns, and Dean is standing in a towel, his hair still wet, a shocked expression on his face.

“H-hey,” Sam says, his voice trembling a little as he tries to smile.

“I’ll put something on,” Dean says, after a couple of seconds. “Let him in,” he adds, gesturing towards Michael, who has no choice but stepping aside. He doesn’t want to let this go though, so he follows Dean into his room.

“I think this is an awful idea,” he remarks, closing the door behind him. Which will probably make Sam feel anything but at ease, considering that he’s gonna assume that they are talking about him, but Michael doesn’t really give a shit.

“He’s my brother,” Dean replies, putting some underwear on. “and I miss him. If he came to apologize or something, I’m gonna let him, alright?”

“Not _alright_ ,” Michael remarks. “I remember what you said-”

“Well, forget it,” Dean cuts him off, grabbing some pants. “He’s my _brother_. We spent our whole lives together, I’m not gonna give up on him because of a _fight_.”

“Try ‘attempted murder’,” Michael corrects. He sees rage in Dean’s eyes and it angers him that he could defend with such passion someone who hurt him so much. He hates it, and not only because Dean deserves better, but because he’s so much _better_ than Michael. _He_ can’t bring himself to forgive the blood and the bruises. He hates his father, and sometimes he hates his brother too. Dean is everything that Michael should be to be a good son.

“ _Mike_ ,” Dean remarks. “I understand that you’re trying to look out for me, and I appreciate that, man, but- what happened- it was only a fight. Gone bad. We stayed away from each other and- now we can try to sort it out. I want us to try. Alright? He’s my brother.”

Michael sets his jaw, forcing himself not to argue. “I don’t like it,” he remarks. “And I’m not leaving you two alone.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Stay here then,” he says, putting a t-shirt on.

Then Dean is out of the room.

 _He’s my brother_ , Michael keeps hearing, just like Lucifer is his brother and his father is his blood. He’s supposed to want them, to need them, to love them. And to some extent he _does_ , Michael does look out for his little brother and he does come back to his father for the holidays, but- he doesn’t feel happy, or at ease. He can’t- he has not forgiven, not really. He’s not even sure that he has a right to his resentment to begin with and now-

“You wanted to talk?” Dean is asking.

“Yeah, I- I don’t really know if there’s something I can say to fix it, honestly,” Sam replies. Michael sits on the bed, finding a position that allows him to keep an eye on the situation from the couple of inches of door that Dean left open. They are standing in the middle of the living room, just a couple of feet away from each other. Sam keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Dean’s arms are crossed. “I just- I’m so, so sorry, Dean,” Sam goes on. “I’m cleaning up now, and- I should have listened to you, I should- God, there’s really no excuse for how much I screwed up.”

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean replies. “You weren’t yourself.”

Sam seems pretty unhappy with that statement, to his credit. “Dean,” he says. “Don’t. Everything that happened- it was all a result of my choices, alright? And I get it if you are mad and never want to see me again, but-”

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean interrupts. “You’re my little brother.”

“I almost- I was _chocking_ you, Dean,” Sam insists. “And I don’t want you to act like it didn’t happen, alright? I’m feeling- guilty as hell. And there’s nothing I can say to undo it.”

“Then stop talking about it,” Dean remarks. Michael is about to scream in frustration, Sam is about to open his mouth to reply, but in the end it’s Dean who keeps talking. “No, listen, Sammy, I- I was pissed. Alright? I was pissed and hurt and everything,” he says. “I didn’t want to be around you, but now time has passed and- you are still my brother. This screw-up doesn’t wipe away everything else. So we’re gonna put a big stone on this whole thing and- start again. Alright?”

Sam takes a shaky breath. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” Dean assures. “Oh, _come on_ , are those _tears_ I see there?”

“Stop being a jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Michael doesn’t have it in him to watch the little family hug.

 

-

Michael waits for them to be sitting on the couch and talking in whispers to stand up and walk out of Dean’s room. He doesn’t put an effort into being inconspicuous as he walks past them to get to his bedroom, but they don’t seem to pay any attention to him.

 

-

“Hey, Mike,” Dean calls, knocking on the door to his bedroom. “Me and Sammy are going out for a beer, wanna tag along?”

“No,” Michael simply lets out. _One, two, three_. He’s still breathing. Admittedly a little too fast, but it’s something, it’s good.

“Alright,” Dean immediately gives up. Who is he trying to fool, Michael knows that he didn’t want him to come in the first place. “See you later.”

Michael isn’t sure if he breathed during the time between the sound of Dean walking away and the front door closing. He expected to be relieved as soon as they got out, but he isn’t.

 

-

“Lucy, I’m home,” Dean announces in a sing-song voice, as he closes the door.

Michael is sitting on the couch, pretending to be paying attention to the television. He has wrapped himself into a blanket, and his throat is still aching after he has thrown up during his panic attack. He cleaned himself up, so he’s hoping that it doesn’t show how messed up he is right now.

“Oh, yeah, I had a lot of fun, thanks for asking,” Dean remarks ironically, getting out of his jacket. Michael doesn’t even turn towards him.

“If I didn’t ask it’s because I don’t care,” he replies.

“Oh, come on, man,” Dean huffs. Michael can hear his steps approaching the couch, and he can only think a desperate series of _no, no, no_ , as if that plead could be enough to save him from talking about _it_. “You can’t be pissed at me for making peace with Sam.”

“I’m not,” Michael denies, and it’s not even a complete lie. _If only_ his main problem was being pissed at Dean because he has a lower consideration of himself than he should, instead he- no, wrong path of thinking. “I’m just _genuinely_ not interested in hearing of your happy hour with him.”

Dean sighs. “Why can’t you just- I told you that it’s water under the bridge, why can’t you accept that?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, but I said that I am not mad,” Michael replies. That awfully familiar feeling of anxiety is growing into his chest once again, and the more he realises it’s _there_ , the more it grows. He doesn’t want to have a panic attack in front of Dean. Not today of all days.

He can’t articulate _how_ what Dean did classifies as a betrayal, but- it does. Michael feels betrayed. Dean wasn’t supposed to _forgive_.

“I heard you, I just call bullshit on it,” Dean replies. “And can you at least look at me when we talk?”

Michael manages a huff as he turns towards Dean, trying to shoot him a death-glare in the hope that it’d mask how he’s really feeling. Judging by Dean’s expression, it doesn’t work too well.

“You look _sick_ , are you alright?” Dean immediately changes the subject. Before Michael can do anything about it, he has slapped his fucking _frozen_ hand on his forehead to feel his temperature. Michael shivers, and that invasion of his personal space doesn’t help with the anxiety.

“Get off of me,” he orders, and Dean moves away a little, even if he looks surprised by the reaction.

“You feel a little warm,” he says anyway. “Maybe you have a fever.”

“I’m just tired,” Michael replies, standing up. “I’ll be better in the morning. Goodnight.”

Dean tries to protest, but Michael completely ignores him as he slides into his bedroom and locks the door. He takes a shaky breath, his back against the door, before dropping on his bed with his clothes still on and the blanket tightened around him.

_He’s your brother. He’s your father. They are your family. You want them, you love them, you need them. Don’t have the presumption to think that you can manage without them._

Dean starts knocking at the door, because of course the guy doesn’t know when to give up. Does Dean Winchester even know what that expression _means_? Has he ever decided that something isn’t worth the fight? Apparently not, because he’s not leaving him alone and he didn’t let go of his murderous and addicted brother either.

“Mike, you sure you’re okay in there?” Dean insists.

It’s getting more difficult to breathe, and Michael realises that he’s not even sure that he has something to throw up in. Which doesn’t really help. Actually, neither would letting Dean hear the sound of retching.

Michael doesn’t answer, too busy trying to keep his breathing in check, going through all those stupid relaxing techniques to stop panic attacks that make him feel like an _idiot_.

 _I can see the sheets, the- the window, the wall, the- the- fuck_.

He can’t seem to focus, there’s just his father, towering over him, yelling, judging, looking at him like he’s the worst kind of disappointment he can imagine- there’re the pats on the back in front of strangers, the appearance of a perfect family, the sensation of suffocating in that stupid house that’s been his prison for _years_ \- he thought that Dean of all people would understand. Dean was supposed to understand. But Dean- Dean loves his brother. Dean wouldn’t feel in prison if he had to stay at father’s house forever.

“Mike?” Dean insists. “Michael, if you don’t answer me I’m gonna kick the door down and make you pay for the repairs.”

Michael closes his eyes, trying to get some air in, trying to- he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to do. He knows that it will stop on its own, but it doesn’t _feel_ like it will and he doesn’t have time right now. He has no doubt that that- _ape_ would really kick the door down.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he manages to say, finally. His voice sounds awful and he’s about to cry, but whatever, he couldn’t do better at the moment.

“You don’t _sound_ fine,” Dean remarks, as if he didn’t know. “If you are sick, I can-”

“I’m not sick,” Michael replies, almost yelling. He wonders where exactly he found the voice to do it. “I’m just sick of _you_ and your saviour complex, so do me a favour and _leave me alone_.”

There’s silence for a couple of seconds, and Michael can’t help fearing that Dean will hear his uneven breath. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like he does.

“Oh, you know what, have it your way,” Dean replies. He sounds angry, and a chill goes down Michael’s spine. “Why do I even bother?” He pauses for a second. “You’re supposed to be _happy_ for me.”

Michael hears him walking away. As it turns out, Dean _does_ know what giving up means. It’s just rare for him to feel like a cause isn’t worth fighting for.


End file.
